


The Red Stain (omg stop looking Erica!)

by LillianDeLooney



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, College Student Stiles, Derek Has a Big Dick, Erica Reyes & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Feel-good, Humor, M/M, Teacher Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 17:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5975515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillianDeLooney/pseuds/LillianDeLooney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The pants, Stiles. Check the pants.”</p><p>He does, and at first he doesn’t get what the fuss is all about, but then his eyes zero in on the man’s crotch area and – yeah, there’s no way he’s going to be able to look away now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Stain (omg stop looking Erica!)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a quick little thing I wrote today. The situation in this fic (well, the first part anyway) actually happened in real life and I might have cried when my friends told me about it and I learned that I wasn’t there to see it, so writing it will have to do. Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Update 12/02: This fic is now officially part of a series, because I couldn't resist writing more about a shameless Erica and Derek's big dick ^^ Send me a comment if you have any suggestions!

_The ‘Red Stain’-phenomenon: a sight that your eyes keep being drawn to, making it impossible to look at anything else, like a red stain on a white wall. – as described by my friends._

 

Stiles wakes up that morning feeling sated and happy. He groans as he stretches his body, slowly opening his eyes and reaching out a hand to pick up his phone from the bedside table. He checks the time and jolts upright.

“Crap,” he mutters, flailing off the bed while he tries to detangle himself from the evil sheets. He only has about half an hour to go through his morning routine, eat breakfast and get to campus in time for his first lecture of the day.

He shouldn’t have gone back to sleep after his amazing orgasm from this morning. Then again, he always dozes off in his afterglow and he’s a twenty-three-year-old college student. He needs all the damned sleep he can get.

Forty minutes later, he rushes into the lecture hall and scans the crowd for his friends. He spots Erica’s head of perfect curls and makes his way over to her as silently as possible, pointedly ignoring the exasperated look of his too-hot-for-his-own-good professor.

He all but climbs into the seat Erica and Allison left for him between them, and the blonde greets him with a smirk. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

He gets his stuff from his backpack to make notes and smirks right back at her. “Who said I was sleeping?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Did you now? You’re so telling me about that later,” she all but demands. It’s a good thing she’s been his best friend for so long. “Now shut up and take notes while Hale recites beautiful British poetry to us and helps us analyse it in depth.”

Stiles does just that.

Mr Hale is easily the most awesome professor they have this semester. For one, he’s incredibly passionate about his field of work. He talks about poetry like they hold the answers to the universe and does it in a way that makes everyone else want to find the answers, too.

Also, he’s incredibly good-looking. There isn’t a part of his body that is not pleasing to the eye. It’s kind of distracting, actually, but they’ve all learned to focus on his voice instead of his face by now. The man is currently standing behind the lecture table, which at least hides some part of his body from view. He’s talking about the differences between British and American Romanticism and Stiles should really start paying attention now.

After he has treated the next three slides on his PowerPoint, Hale steps away from his lecture table and continues in a different spot, making dramatic faces as he recites a certain poem. Stiles can’t focus on the man anymore, because Erica gasps softly beside him and drops her pen.

“ _Oh. My. God_ ,” she whispers dramatically.

Stiles turns his head to give her a questioning look, but her eyes are trained on their professor in the front of the lecture hall. “It’s like a giant red stain on the wall,” she breathes.

“What?”

“The _pants,_ Stiles. Check the pants.”

He does, and at first he doesn’t get what the fuss is all about, but then his eyes zero in on the man’s crotch area and – yeah, there’s no way he’s going to be able to look away now.

“Oh boy,” he chokes out, because that’s – just. Wow.

“Yeah,” she breathes.

Her eyes are still firmly looking at the man’s groin, and he huffs. “Jesus Christ, Erica. Stop looking.”

“I _can’t_. I told you, it’s a red stain.” She pokes him in the side without averting her eyes from their eye-candy. “Besides, you’re still looking too.”

“I -” Well. Yeah. Obviously. “Touché.”

Allison, who is sitting on Stiles’ other side, elbows him to get his attention.

“What are you two sighing about?”

“The pants,” they whisper in unison. Allison frowns and follows their eyes, then gets slack-jawed when she notices it too. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” they sigh in agreement.

Scott, sitting beside Allison, notices their lack of attention and turns his body towards them. The poor dude is too curious for his own good and asks what’s up with them. The girls smother their giggles behind their hands and Stiles warns him that he doesn’t want to know, but the guy insists. “Seriously, what am I missing?”

Stiles bites his lip. “The pants, Scotty.”

Scott makes his confused puppy face and turns his eyes back to the front of the room, checking out Hale’s pants. It takes a solid minute for the guy to figure it out, but when he does his face scrunches up in an expression of disgust – which, rude.

“Oh my God. Ew. I need brain-bleach. Is that . . . seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles whispers, still ogling the very noticeable bulge in Hale’s pants. He idly wonders if the guy is hard or not. Stiles has no doubt he’s well-endowed either way. And judging by the man’s face and body language, he has no idea what he’s even doing to them right now. Stiles stealthily adjusts himself in his own pants and clears his throat when the girls giggle beside him.

That, for some reason, does get Hale’s attention and he looks up at them, one bushy eyebrow raised in question.

“Something wrong?” he inquires, a faint hint of amusement in his voice. Asshole.

“No, Sir,” they chorus, trying to keep their faces straight. Hale just fondly shakes his head and continues his lecture.

Stiles chances a look around him and finds out that they are not the only ones who noticed how well those pants fit Hale’s body. Many of the girls are shamelessly ogling the guy and he even catches more than a few boys doing the same. And poor Mr Hale still seems to have no idea.

He thinks that maybe he should do something about that. In private, of course. Yeah, he’ll definitely do that.

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Later that morning, he has a free period and he figures it’s as good a time as any to visit Mr Hale in his office. He takes the elevator to the seventh floor and walks to the man’s office by memory. Because no, this is not the first time he’s been to his office. Not by a long shot.

He knocks on the door and enters when a voice from inside the room tells him to come in.

“Morning, Mr Hale,” he greets the man, closing the door behind him.

Hale is standing in front of one of his many bookcases. He stops what he’s doing to smile that perfect smile of his. “Hey, Stiles. What can I do for you?”

“Actually,” he smirks and steps closer to the man. “I was wondering if there is something I can do for you.” He ogles Hale’s pants meaningfully, then trails his eyes very slowly up to the man’s face and winks.

The man raises an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed not to have sex in my office?”

“Ugh,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Where is your sense of adventure, Derek?”

His boyfriend should get a medal for delivering the next line with a straight face;

“You probably fucked it out of me this morning.”

Stiles sighs happily, a proud and dreamy look on his face. “Yeah . . .” 

“So is there a reason for this sudden _sexcapade_ of yours?”

“Erica could totally see the outline of your dick in your pants this morning . . . and I’m pretty sure she wasn’t the only one.”

Derek blanches and gives his new pants a look of betrayal. “What?”

“Don’t worry, they’re just a bunch of horny college girls. Lusting after unobtainable college professors is one of their favourite pastimes.”

“Right. Something I’m sure you know nothing about.”

“Well duh,” he says, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck, kissing him soundly on the mouth. Derek huffs out a laugh. “You’re not unobtainable to me. I already have you.”

The man gives him another quick kiss, a fond look in his eyes. “Yes, you do.”

Stiles grins and steps back. “So, I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay. Bye. Love you, Der-Bear.”

“Get out, you idiot.”

He cackles and leaves the office with a huff, grinning when he pulls his phone out not ten seconds later to see Derek’s text message saying ‘I love you, too’. He gets another message alert, but from Erica this time. He opens it curiously and his jaw drops when he sees a close-up picture of Derek’s crotch from that morning.

“Oh my _God_ , Erica.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Like my writing? Feel free to [subscribe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LillianDeLooney/profile) to me!


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